I live where logic dares not tread, a shadow-play inside your head. I vanish with dawn, like mist in the beam; I am what night invents from scheme.

I am a puzzle, a riddle, a test, With no easy answer, I'm hard to digest. A thinker’s delight, a solver’s despair, What am I, elusive, in the mind's snare?

What is so fragile it already breaks when you just say it's name?

Three words, seven letters Say it, and the key will be revealed.

When you don't know what I am, I am something, When you know what I am, I am nothing. What am I?